Equinox

We've been at Joshua Tree for a week now, but unfortunately the team consensus isn't very kind towards the climbing here. I'd been warned that it isn't to everyone's liking here, that some find the style too old school, and others take umbrage at the stiff grades. If anything, these attributes attract me more than turn me off. However, our experience is that there is a lot of chaff to sort from the over-starred wheat. The best routes are good, but you're unlikely to do more than one each day as they're so spread out. The rock on the face routes is way below par, mostly consisting of snappy flakes. The more moderate routes look much better, on cleaner rock, and are more concentrated and numerous, which probably explains the popularity of the place. For sure though, Joshua Tree is a cool place to hang out. The desert always holds its own distinct appeal, and the five of us have had a great time together. We've spent long enough together now that we have shared stories and developed our own in-jokes, we know each other well enough for conversation to be natural, or for silence to be comfortable. It's also been great for me to climb with such talented climbers as Hazel, Katy and Ryan, and to try and absorb some of their style and skill.

In spite of the fun I was having with my friends, I also found the days pretty hard on my ego. I didn't feel like I was climbing well, and it was a long time since I climbed anything of personal significance. Also, climbing with my present company was, in my eyes at least (I'm sure they couldn't care less!), demonstrating so many holes in my ability.
Although this may seem both ridiculous and unimportant when read in the cold light of day, I had a hard time getting a perspective on this when all I did was spend each day climbing. I had nothing else to provide me with feelings of reward.

It was with this emotional baggage that I found myself roping up at the bottom of Equinox for my second attempt. Round one had involved much falling and sitting on gear, and so I didn't rate my chances of linking the several sections that I had found hard individually.

Drawing on some recent insights from having watched Katy and Ryan, and spoken with Hazel, I quickly formulated my strategy. I knew I would have to climb assertively, really making the most of marginal footholds instead of overgripping for security, which paradoxically, would make a fall more likely through running out of energy. That, and I was going to be like Jerry (obviously if I was really going to be like Jerry I would have flashed it already. Nonetheless, I scolded myself for my lack of self belief).

As I set my fingers in the first locks I was aware of the soreness caused by my first attempt. The initial part went easier and smoother than before. I restricted myself to placing pro only from the least strenuous positions, I reinvented sequences and set finger locks with more patience than before, resisting the pressure to rush.

I experienced a moment of clarity mid-route, when I became aware that not only was I embroiled in the midst of climbing Equinox, but I was engaged in this process as I had raised my game to do so. The fact that I was using my climbing resources as effectively as I ever have done should not belie the physical effort I was pouring into every moment spent on the rock. My attention had been so focussed that I only became aware of my friends' shouts of encouragement in a retrospective surge of sensory backlog, as I stepped onto the finishing footledge.

As usual, the times that success is grasped by the skin of your teeth are the most intense experiences, and so are memorable for that. But greater than that, my enjoyment of climbing Equinox was enhanced by learning more about rock climbing from my friends, which allowed me to make the most of my current ability.
The essence of my memory of climbing Equinox is more of the visceral feel of this climbing flow; the outcome, successful as it was, is a happy yet minor detail.